


A Thousand Thousand Heartbeats

by thejessbeast



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Blood, Derek is in the background, Dying Stiles, Gen, Graphic Description, Sad
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-12
Updated: 2014-06-12
Packaged: 2018-02-04 08:14:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 469
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1772026
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thejessbeast/pseuds/thejessbeast
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles is dying -- really dying. Peter stands over him gloating. <i>Nihil novi sub sole.</i></p>
            </blockquote>





	A Thousand Thousand Heartbeats

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this fic on my tumblr directly after _Riddled_ and [after pyes and I had this twitter discussion](http://media.tumblr.com/196628356aa2932337aaed368c691419/tumblr_inline_n0hzooPBol1qhwo2i.jpg). I had a lot of feelings about the odds stacked against Stiles and really thought they'd kill him off. So I wrote it out.
> 
> It's very sad and no one liked it, except me. I'm posting it here now.
> 
> The title is from **Sabriel** by Garth Nix.

Stiles’s hand twitches against the dirt. He tries to pull it back to him, but it hurts to move, and it hurts to breathe, and it hurts to think. There’s pounding all around him. It’s not his heartbeat. He knows, because he can’t feel his heartbeat.

A few drops of blood fall into his eyes.

He can feel the pain left from a dozen _Onii_ swords through his chest. He can feel the bubbles in his lungs as they slowly pop. He can feel the white hot agony of his brain screaming to move- to breathe - to do anything. But he can’t feel his heart.

Oh, a thud. There it is. Faintly moving.

"See if you’d only listened to me, Stiles. If you’d only taken the bite, then only the nogitsune would be dying right now.” Peter’s voice is syrupy, right next to his ear.

The lines of the floor are starting to blur. Stiles can’t turn his head to see anything else around him. He knows Peter is smiling, though. They should have never trusted him again.

Peter’s hand trails down Stiles’s face, and in its wake pops a spark of pain, tingling quickly, and vanishing. Peter drags his hand back up, wiggling his fingers. He’s running his fingers through blood. Through Stitles’s blood. Peter is _fingerpainting_ on Stiles with his own blood.

That gives Stiles enough ire to push the air up his throat and croak, “Go to hell.”

Peter puts his hands over Stiles’s mouth. “You’re far too young to be using such naughty words.”

Another thud - well not even a thud, more like a sad tap - moves Stiles’s heart.

Peter pushes off of him, using Stiles’s shoulder for leverage. Stiles hears the crack, but it doesn’t even hurt any more. It’s all stopped hurting, really.

Peter’s shoes come into focus. There’s blood all over the toes. It’s definitely ruined the leather.

"I suppose I should thank you, for being my _nogitsune_. Scott’s right where he needs to be now.” Peter taps his toe. “Your loyalty to him was all so convenient.”

The pounding is so loud. It’s coming from the ground, from the air, from the windows, from the doors. It’s coming from Peter’s designer shoes and the blood dripping off of them. It’s shaking Stiles, beating at his body, pushing at his back and chest, squeezing him smaller and smaller.

And then it stops.

Stiles’s heart beats one more time, soft, like it’s tiptoeing.

In the vacuum comes the roar. It electrocutes Stiles’s body, running goosebumps from head to toe, causing every single hair on his body to stand on end, flashing his eyes wide.

Peter’s feet sail out of view, with a sudden, violent shock. The floor shakes. It’s a wet, tearing cacophony filling the air now.

"Derek," Stiles breathes. "I missed you."


End file.
